Camp-N-Cold

Indian Creek trail
Hey everyone out there in Backboneland! I am finally decompressing from the disgusting amount of elevation/riding we did this weekend. While forty miles and 6,200 feet of climbing may not seem like a lot to Ara, it put a hurtin' on me for sure. It would have been hard on me at sea level, but we started both rides at over 5,000 feet. I'm not a skinny man, so hauling this tub of chicken fried steak and gravy up that much hill ain't no feat for the timid, right? Expecting to come back and drink some beer, my buddy Randy was busy raiding the cooler. Watching him drink it is as good as me drinking it, I guess. or NOT!
Friday I took off of work to load up and leave the house by 9am. After an amazingly scenic drive up highway 79, I ended up rolling through the historic touristy town of Julian. I blinked and was through it, making the final push to Cuyamaca. The lake glistened in the late morning sun as I drove on to the campground. I saw no turkeys this trip (insert joke here), but lots of deer and hillbillies. After setting up camp, I began the laborious process of stuffing schwag bags for the raffle. Too many prizes, wow. Thanks to KENDA, SIGMA, VOLER, HYDRAPAK, TITUS, 661-SUNLINE, etc. for all the great raffle stuff. PERFORMANCE bikes of Santa Monica donated the actual bags.
Roger and Vanessa showed up first, then the Betsy clan. Bill Doyle's crew were there ready to rock and roll, too. Those guys will break you down on a bike and make you feel like a sissy, seriously. I was expecting to be alone that night, but had TONS of peeps already! It got down to 38 degrees Friday night...little did we know that would be the warm night! CAN YOU SAY "SHRINKAGE?"
The campfire kept us warm as we talked crap about each other until bed time.
Saturday we awoke we to flurry of action. People began to cook breakfast and prepare for the days ride. The Doyle clan rolled in three deep for the ride, and made our medium sized group a large one. Vegas Bob ws late for the ride start, so we had to go w/out him. After about eighteen miles and 2500 feet of climbing at a blistering pace (trying to keep Vanessa and Dawn from tearing me a new poop-chute), we arrived at West Side Trail. "Trail" is a term I use very loosely for the carpet bombed then overgrown section of trail we were on. Oh, and did I tell ya about the roses? Eye-ball high and thick as my mid-section, the native rose bushes were like riding into a giant free-range cat-fight. We limped back to camp after bleeding out enough to make the Red Cross jealous. Roger thought it would be fun to do a back-country mountain ride in his road shoes...sweeet. He twisted his back while doing a bike-over-head style portage over a rock bed. He was done for the weekend after that. Making it back before dark, we found that Bob had come in and gone out after us. At least he got to ride! Val, Karl and Cole had to bail out, due to a sweepng cold. Robert and his wife also had to bug out due to familial obligations. Oh well, we'll just have to go back.
I prepared the raffle as Bert, Ryan, Randy, the SD crew, etc rolled in. James would not arrive in time for the raffle thanks to an ugly accdent and run-in with the landlord. Not good. The raffle went well, with me having plenty of help from the lolly-pop-lickers amongst us. We all ate dinner, and went to bed. Noble Canyon lie in wit for us Sunday, and we had to get some sleep. The coyotes made a kill around 2am, chortling and howling the way the do when there is fresh meat.
THE KLEIN IS DEAD
That's right guys. My baby has finally had it's last ride. Noble Canyon finally did her in, and almost me too! I ordered a new Titus hardtail frame today to replace it, but it better be one hell of a bike to live up to the standard of old blue. Greg Pleiss is gonna kill me when he finds out.
Sunday Randy arrived early, and James, Taylor(no, stupid, not James Taylor), Bert, Ryan, Randy, Vegas and I all loaded up for the big ride. Indian Creek Trail to Noble. I was the only one who knew the way, but was so spanked from saturday I could barely move. Ryan Blanchette was the first victim, succumbing to the pavement "warmup" climb. It is about two miles long, with a 35% grade. Fun. he made it about a fifth of the way up Indian Creek before having to head back. Bert rode back with him, taking one for the team so I could lead the rest of the boys through it.
Randy and I watched as VB and Taylor ascended like winged dirt-bags up the trail. James, Randy and I were hanging out in the back. That's nice-talk for sucking a fat one. James finally had enough of baby sitting and went on up the hill. Randy called in air support, and Guiness air-dropped us some mother's milk to help with our climb. The trail was great. Totally rocky and jacked up, just the way I like it. I liked it so much, I decided to flip over the bike and down the canyon, hanging onto a sagebrush with one hand, and the Klein with the other. Bitchin.
We made it to Noble finally, and I sent the guys ahead to bomb it. It was a great run until I ate it again, broke my wheel, my derailleur hanger, and my derailleur. Pisser. I had to finish the ride in my granny ring, it's all I had. I should know something's up when I am the guy on a hardtail, with rim brakes and a three inch travel fork...and everyone else is on a 5" trail bike w/ 8" rotors. I USED to be able to ride that tail on my hardtail, but lack of practice there made it damn sad. I still loved it, though, and will be back with my 2007 Moto-Lite which arrives Saturday...along with my new HT frame! Thanks Titus.
Taylor blew out his back wheel twice, and had NADA to fix it with. You knwo, sometimes the smartest people do the dumbest...never mind. I was on Noble with my Klein, I have no room to talk. As we arrived back at the cars, we found that Ryan Blanchette had crashed descending that steep paved hill back to the car. His but has a sweet scab collection now. Bert ended up riding Noble in reverse for an hour and a half, but it sucked not having him with the group. We all wanted to see what the Trail Surgeon would do.
Anyhow, I'm still tired. I finally got home at 8pm last night. Desi came home from work at midnight. I had been up since 5:30am, and done that ride, too. Then, at 1:30am, our neighbors decided it would be fun to vacuum their car witha F******G ZAMBONI or something. It sounded like a C-130 military transport over there, and went on for thirty minutes! I got up (Naked...ooh, gross) and walked over there with my junk hanging out (to be extra dirt-baggy). I called them names you wouldn't call your mother in law if she sold your porn collection. That's how I roll. it was cold at 1:30, and I probably had some major shrinkage going on. Probably should have fluffed up for a minute or something. Oh well, maybe next time....


Cap'n Chris